Your Heart Will Find a Home
by GypsyJinx
Summary: Starts after Hide the Children and inspired by Nick's comments in both this episode and Night of the Wolf that he has spent his life working but fears missing out on something more important. Story title is taken from Pilon's song. Barkley family.
1. The Wandering Colt Returns

"Those grapes with need harvesting again next season. The job is yours if you're back this way."

"Thank you, Mr. Barkley." Corso nodded politely.

"Nick. It's Nick."

Heath's brow rose in surprise, and he looked aside to catch Jarrod's eye. Jarrod nodded subtly and returned watchful eyes to the exchange.

"Ah, yes. Nick." The Gypsy accepted the outstretched, gloved hand with a genuine smile, and Nick's face broke with a grin of relief.

"Next year then!"

The man nodded his agreement and moved as to urge his mount forward, but Nick held the reigns.

"Don't you think you should wait until the others can send for you. One man alone…"

"I may be getting older, but I think I can still sit a horse and find my way by the stars, Mr. Barkley." The Gypsy's face sobered, and his tone was edged with irritation.

Jarrod and Heath exchanged cautious looks. Perhaps the truce was too good to be true.

"Oh, I know. I know." Nick was quick to acquiesce. "It's just…you know how some people…" He stumbled and gave up. "Keep a sharp eye, is all." He released the reigns of the horse he'd insisted Corso accept as an overdue bonus for his family's work.

"That I will, Mr. Nick. That I will." The easy smile and atmosphere of friendship returned, and Corso snapped the reigns, urging his mount forward.

"Say hello to…" But it was too late and probably for the best. …Ah, well. Nick watched the mounted form until the colorful tunic blurred into the landscape.

"Well, brother Nick, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Jarrod stepped forward, slapping a hand on his brother's shoulder.

Nick's eyes cut toward his older brother with a scowl. "Don't gloat, Pappy. It doesn't suit you." He slapped his black hat against his thigh and then lovingly smoothed the brim before pushing back his unruly locks and forcefully returning the hat to his head.

"Wouldn't think of it." The teasing quirk of a smile remained, but the hand on his shoulder gentled. Much like when they were boys and Nick had been chastened by their father for finishing the fight someone had started on the church lawn or been rebuked by their mother for the torn knees in yet another pair of new trousers, the look in Jarrod's big-brother eyes said, _"I told you not to do it, and you really ought to know better,"_ but the hand on his shoulder told him, _"It'll be all right little brother. It's over now, and I'm here."_

Heath watched as the look between his brothers wrote unspoken volumes between them. It was a history he hadn't been around to see but appreciated none the less. He smiled, glad to be here now to bear witness and to be made a partner in the bond.

By the time Nick had made his way home, Corso had healed enough to be on his way, and Nick had went directly and seen it done in his usual to-the-point and no-holds-barred way. Now it was time to get back to work. Against his will, he wondered if Pilon would come with the family next season. …If she did it would be with her new husband. What was his name? …Ion? Yeah, Ion.

Nick sighed heavily, oblivious to Jarrod's watchful eyes. It could never be said that Nick ever did anything part way. As when he had acted upon his false assumptions concerning the migrant gypsies in their employ, Jarrod had seen him many times barrel a hundred miles an hour in the wrong direction, having stubbornly set his mind. They'd had their own share of fistfights through Nick's teen years. He remembered rolling in the mud and muck, trading blows and trying to bash some sense into that thick skull. And then Nick would see him stumble under the force of a well-aimed punch. "You okay, Jarrod? You okay?" The hand that moments earlier had knocked him flat would reach to pull him up, brush him off, and check out his wounds with sincere regret. "Hey, I'm real sorry, Pappy. I got carried away. You're right about the whole thing. I'm sorry." As hard as Nick would fight head-long against the wind, moving in the wrong direction, when he was proved wrong he'd forego his pride and fight even harder, go even farther with unflinching will to make things right.

Nick's temper and brash judgments might at times cause him trouble and bring them along for the ride, but his loyalty and determination had been their saving grace many more times along the way. None of them questioned his heart. Inside this loud, unruly brother of his burned a fire that refused to be put out. Without him, Jarrod wondered, would the family have survived after Father's untimely demise? The thought of bearing the burden for them both drew an equally deep sigh from Jarrod and prompted him to pat the muscled shoulder under his hand fondly.

"Good to have you home, Nick." Heath slapped him on the back as he passed, and Nick started out of his thoughts.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, yeah. Thanks."

"Gonna be nice to have the extra set of hands on that fence line."

Nick's head swiveled slowly toward his younger brother, the line of his lips twisted, brow raised in aggravation. He pushed his hat back from his forehead. "That's your job, little brother, and I'd 've thought you'd be done with it by now."

"Ranch work is never done, or did you forget while you were out gallivanting across the countryside? This here's a workin' ranch, brother." Heath's face was a mask of sincerity, his manner carefully devoid of humor as he used the line Nick most oft directed his way. He busied himself with carrying tack to the barn, seemingly blind and deaf to his brother's exasperation.

Nick stared after him, fists on his hips. "Well, I never."

"You never?" Heath emerged from the barn with a grin, and Nick looked to see laughter crinkling the corners of Jarrod's eyes.

"Come on, brother. Let's see what's for supper. You must be tired of trail grub."

"Heh." Nick offered a crooked grin that seemed less hearty than Jarrod had hoped, but he slung an arm over each brother's neck and so yoked, they walked together to the house.

"Nick!" Victoria descended the stairs with her arms outstretched, and her wild colt met her while she was still only halfway down.

"Mother." He pressed her hands. "You look beautiful, as always." He kissed her lightly on the cheek, reminding them that he could be gentle.

"Nick, it's good that you're home." She reached to return his kiss, ignoring the dust and the scruff, and his eyes and smile softened at her touch. He offered his arm, and she walked with him the rest of the way to the dining hall.

"Why, thank you, Nick." Victoria smiled affectionately as he held out her chair and seated her.

"Well, if this gentlemanly behavior is the result, maybe you'd best go away more often." Audra flounced into the room with a swish of silk and a challenging grin, demanding her brother's attention.

"My Lady." Nick gave an exaggerated bow, deep and low, and then, as she passed by, tousled her blond waves.

"Nick, don't you dare! Mother!" Audra squirmed away from his reach and hurriedly smoothed her gleaming hair.

"Well, you did start it." Victoria reminded her, and Audra fumed as Nick laughed loudly. Victoria took a measured breath, patiently enduring the rowdy reunion. "Please, Nick, remember we are indoors."

"Yes, Nick. You aren't eating with the animals anymore." If Audra hadn't been better trained, or perhaps if Victoria hadn't been seated next to her, she'd have stuck out her tongue, and he knew it.

"For your information, young lady, I wasn't eating with the animals." And then he paused and reconsidered the facts. "Well, there was a dog, but…"

"I knew it!" Audra made the triumphant proclamation, and Nick slammed the palm of his hand against the table, setting the silverware to clattering.

"Nicholas! Audra!"

Nick looked chagrined, and Audra silently pouted.

Jarrod sat quietly and watched all, undisturbed by the commotion. He knew that the banter was part of their dynamic. Nick had teased and pampered Audra since she was born; she wouldn't know him without it. Heath looked to Jarrod to confirm his interpretation of the interaction and smiled at reading the comfortable acceptance in Jarrod's expression.

"Audra," Victoria turned the subject, "why don't you ask Nick to take a look at Ciqala for you."

"That new colt I bought you? What's wrong?" Nick's eyes sharpened, brow furrowed in concern.

The suggestion was just the trick. Victoria saw Heath watching her. She smiled knowingly, and he grinned.

"He's been so restless the past couple of days, as if something has him spooked. He looks fine, but he's off his food and acting out. I can't for the life of me explain it."

"Well, sure. I'll take a look. …After I eat. Where is that food anyway?"

"Here you are, Mr. Nick, and welcome back." Silas deposited a heaping plate before the young man. Suddenly hungrier than he'd realized, Nick's stomach rumbled loud enough to gain the attention of the table. If comments were made, he didn't hear them. His rapt attention was placed upon the setting before him as he practically inhaled the generous portions of gravy-smothered steak and potatoes, corn, and biscuits.

"Better than beef jerky and a blanket, eh, brother?" Heath smiled over a mouth full of steak.

The image of Pilon and the stew and nights under the stars returned. Right about now everyone would be singing and dancing… Pilon with her groom… His fork wavered on the way to his mouth and then returned to the plate with the intended morsel still attached. A bittersweet smile upon his lips, Nick nodded slowly. "Yep. Sure is." But still the eagerly spiked meat went unclaimed.

"Nick… Are you feeling all right?"

His mother's voice brought him around. "Oh, sure." And then more definitively, "Yes, Mother, I'm fine." He pushed back his chair. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go see about that colt before I forget."

"But Nick, I made a pie!" Audra protested strongly, but Victoria shushed her daughter with a wave.

"You're excused, Nick."

"Mother." He nodded respectfully toward Victoria and glanced to Audra with a hint of apology as he left the table. "Save me a piece of that pie." For his brothers, he spared no look, leaving Heath and Jarrod to share one of their own.

"He must be very tired," Victoria reasoned. "Your brother never tells us everything. I'm sure it was a trying trip." She dabbed the corners of her mouth and studied the vacant chair before turning her eyes toward where he'd exited the room. Thought lines creased between her eyes.

Suddenly the appetites of all decreased, and when Silas was ready with the pie, he found them surprisingly reluctant.

"Maybe later, Silas, thank you." Audra's polite smile was forced, and Heath pushed the potatoes left and right on his plate. Jarrod continued to cut his steak into strips, arranging and rearranging but leaving them uneaten.

"Was there something wrong with the food, Ma'am?" Silas was alarmed.

"No, no. Not at all. It was very delicious, Silas. We are simply tired. Thank you." Victoria reassured him and the others swiftly joined in the defense, but after he was gone, the silence and sobriety fell again. The house was just not the same without Nick's raucous presence and jovial smile. They'd missed these things, and that they had not fully returned with him was just cause for the unease that had crept into the house.

"I think I'll go out and see if he needs any help with the colt." Heath headed for the door.

"Good idea." Jarrod resisted the desire to follow. Nick had become every bit as loyal a defender to Heath and more than his resistance had at first been strong. Heath, for his part, had learned to trust and count on that bond. More than once while Nick was away, Heath had looked down the path and commented on where Nick might be at this point and finally on whether this would be the day he'd return. It was a different relationship than Jarrod's with Nick. Nick would not look to Heath as he did Jarrod, the older brother, for steadying and advice. But perhaps what he needed now was best served by a friend.

Jarrod wandered from the room, leaving Victoria and Audra alone.

"Maybe I should go help too…" Audra pushed away from the table, but Victoria motioned her to stay.

"Give him a few minutes, Audra. Maybe then he'll be ready for that pie."

"Oh, yes!" Audra's face brightened, and she hurried to prepare the biggest piece.

Victoria found Jarrod gazing thoughtfully out the window of the library. She followed his gaze and saw that instead of being in the stable, Nick was leaning on a fence post, staring into the darkening horizon. Heath was standing off a ways, watching as if debating whether to approach.

"What is it, Jarrod? Did the trip not go well after all?"

Jarrod inhaled slowly and released a deep sigh. "He was eager to make amends with Corso. I know Nick. He was sincere."

Victoria laughed warmly. "Isn't he always?"

Jared joined in. Yes, right or wrong, Nick was always sincere. "Whatever is on his mind, I believe he completed his task as promised and has returned with no hard feelings between the parties."

"As you hoped." Victoria gave her attorney son a squeeze.

"As I _expected._ I had faith he would come around...eventually. It was a matter of buying time for reason to do its work." He laughed.

"Yes. I know." Victoria looked at Jarrod with pride in her eyes, and then she turned back to the window where Heath had met up with Nick. The two of them were now trudging toward the barn. "Then what? One of Nick's storms, I can take, but it's not like him to be melancholy."

Jarrod shrugged and smiled softly, turning from the window as his brothers disappeared from view. "I don't know, Mother. …Maybe Nick really is just tired."

Victoria rubbed his arm, and Jarrod patted her hand. Whatever it was, they'd make it through. For all their wealth, family was the most important resource they had.


	2. Restless One

"You ain't been gone so long as to forget your way to the barn, have you, Nick?"

"Eh?" For a moment the far away expression lingered in Nick's hazel eyes as he stared blankly at his younger brother, but soon enough recognition reeled in the distance like a fish from the stream. Heath's words registered, the details of his task returned, and Nick awakened."Oh. Right." He pushed away from the post where he'd been leaning and made a halfhearted attempt at an offended sniff. "Seein' as I helped build that there barn with these two hands, not likely."

Heath gave a twisted shadow of a smile as Nick waved gloved hands to the sky as evidence and strode purposefully toward the barn he'd helped raise on the land he'd helped clear and stock and cultivate.

The Barkley ranch had grown up with Nick, who was doing a man's job even as a boy while working alongside the father Heath had never known. Heath could almost imagine he'd been there to see it all from the stories Nick, the rest of the family, and the veteran hands had liberally shared. Sometimes it seemed that Nick himself had forgotten Heath hadn't been with them in those early days to see dreams wrestled into reality by the sheer force of the Barkley will, to see the rugged land made fruitful, and a gangly, raw-boned boy become a man.

Those were the days of sweat and blood before Barkley money flowed in like a river…  
>Those were the days when all hope hinged on one season, one cattle drive, one prayer…<p>

There wasn't much chance he'd need help with the colt, but Nick didn't begrudge Heath's company. Between them, there was a comfortable, easy acceptance. True enough, he'd once resisted Heath's inclusion into the family, loudly and fiercely challenged his right to belong. It wasn't in Nick to stand by and let someone, anyone, prance in and tear down their home. Their first meeting had been a clash of wills, and their bond had been forged with the violent spark of friction that comes in the striking of iron against steel. But all that was in the past, done and settled. Now Nick's resistance would be doubly strong, the challenge more forcefully delivered, if Heath ever took it in his mind to part ways. There was no backing out on family. Not in Nick's mind. No refunds on the Barkley name. The bond was absolute.

"What is it, boy?" The bay colt's withers jumped; his muscles rippled beneath Nick's hand, and he danced restlessly.

Heath trimmed the lantern and watched as his brother expertly examined the colt. Everyone always said Nick Barkley had a good eye for horse flesh. Whether it was work stock or for breeding and show, Nick sure knew how to pick 'em. But Heath knew there was more to it than fit-for-use or bred-for-profit.

_The earlier glimpsing of a wild herd had inspired Nick one day as their mounts moved easily across the remaining field separating the brothers from home._

"_There's just something special about a horse." Nick had taken a hand from the reins to physically grasp at the missing words. He pumped his fist and squinted into the sunset. "It's as if God himself took the thunder and the lightning and the west wind and packed it all right into this one creature." His hands were both waving now as he expanded the view, but Coco was used to it and only the flick of an ear showed he took notice as he continued loping along. "You can just feel it…the power…the electricity…" Nick's gloved fist pulled tightly back toward a leather vested chest, and then his eyes cut toward his brother with a frown at his silence. "Well, can't you?"_

_Prompted, Heath had nodded. "Yep, Nick. Sure can." He gave Charger a pat._

_It was then Nick pushed his hat back a notch and settled comfortably in the saddle. "You know, Heath… There are days I swear this good, ol' boy's gonna sprout wings like Pegusus, and we're just gonna fly right over those cliffs there." He looked off into the distance and then sank his fingers into Coco's mane to massage the thick neck. Coco responded with an eager snort and a lengthened stride to the affectionate touch. "Yes, sir...right on over…" Nick redirected his gloved fingers into the horizon._

_Heath looked at him in alarm. "Now, Nick… You go and do a thing like that, and you will be wearin' wings!" But his brother was already past that thought and on to the next._

"_See you back at the house!"_

_Heath had laughed as Charger pranced, sensing what was to come. "Don't forget them wings, brother! I reckon you're gonna need 'em!"_

"_Yee-haw!" A flash of white teeth against a tanned face, the toss of Coco's flaxen mane, and it was all dust and hooves pounding-and Charger winning by two lengths. …Had they flown those last few yards to the gate?_

_Nick had ignored the good natured kidding that came with the loss as he swung the saddle from Coco's back. "Well, now, that Charger's just a pretty boy who doesn't know an honest day's work. Don't mean a thing, Coco." He rubbed down the sweat-dampened shoulder. "Don't mean a thing."_

Heath smiled at the recollection as Nick finished his inspection and returned to stroking Ciqala's arched neck. "Hey there, fella. Hey now." The familiar half-smile lingered as Heath watched the animal respond and soon enough stand quietly, head bobbing over Nick's shoulder, as Nick absentmindedly continued to rub and talk.

"Nick?" Audra appeared at the door. She cast a tentative smile Heath's way, and he left off chewing a stalk of straw to give a light grin. Audra looked worriedly past him. Whether she was looking at the colt or the brother calming him, Heath couldn't say. Maybe it was as he suspected and her concern was for both. She approached hesitantly, not wanting to disturb the process. "Nick, I-"

Ciqala started, jerked against his restraints, and snorted excitedly. "Whoa, boy. Whoa now. Easy does it." Beneath the comforting words was the quality of command. The colt wavered for a moment but gradually accepted Nick's direction and settled.

"I thought by now you might be hungry for some pie…" Audra held out a plate heaped with golden apple filling and flaky, butter crust toward Nick and then retracted it uncertainly.

Nick looked down at the slice as if it was a foreign thing before again making a belated adjustment to his reactions. "Pie? Oh, sure. Thanks, little sister." He accepted the offering and then sat the plate atop a bucket until he could see to it.

"Don't think you're left out, Heath." Audra turned his way, a second platter held out in offering. "This is for you."

"Thank you, Audra. It looks delicious." Heath nodded with a smile and took the patterned china from her hands.

"Is he okay?" Audra directed her query to Nick, but her eyes wandered anxiously to Heath with the same question.

Nick patted Ciqala's shoulder. "Pulse is good. Gums look fine. He's not sweatin', and from the sound of it, things are movin' all right. You say it's just been the past couple days? Anything out of the ordinary while you were working him?"

"No, Nick. That's just it. I can't think of anything at all."

The concerned voices of his siblings continued, but Heath's attention to the conversation was interrupted as he swallowed the first big bite of pie. He choked back a cough reflex and felt his blue eyes begin to tear. Quick as he could manage without raising attention, Heath dabbed at his face with his neckerchief and worked the saliva in his mouth as an alternative to the cool drink of water he craved.

"Enjoying the pie?" Audra smiled sweetly as she retraced her steps.

"Mmm-hmm." Heath put on the best impersonation of a smile he could muster through the pain, and Audra happily bent to kiss his forehead.

"Good night, Heath." She looked back fondly. "Good night, Nick. Thanks. I am glad you're home."

"Yep. You're welcome. Good night..." The gruff tone softened to affection. He gave a short nod and wave and then walked to where he could make sure she made it safely inside the house. It was then he remembered the plate of pie abandoned on the overturned bucket.

"Don't do it, Nick. Don't-" Heath's warning was stalled by his dry, burning throat and came out a raspy whisper. By then it was too late. As Heath watched in alarm, Nick took one bite…and then another…and another. "Nick, I really think you oughtta reconsider!" Heath stumbled to his feet and toward Nick, still absentmindedly shoveling in the devil pie.

"Mister Heath?" Heath turned from the shocking scene to find Silas sneaking his way into the barn. He was looking this way and that and paying special attention to the house, clearly worried about discovery.

"Silas? What is it?"

"Here." He was holding a tray and pitcher. "I managed to switch out the pie for the others, but Miss Audra insisted on fixing your two's pieces her own self. I got here quick as I saw she was back in the house. You want a fresh piece?"

"Drink! Please…drink!" Heath grasped the glass as Silas poured. One gulp and the glass was empty. "More!" Another glass down. It was only when the fire in his throat and belly started to fizzle out that he remembered..."Nick!"

"AAAHHHH!" Heath turned just in time to see Nick's face contort into a mask of horror. He dropped to his knees, hands pressed against his face as he writhed and gagged.

"Oh, Mister Nick!" Silas shook his head mournfully.

"Quick, Silas. The milk." Heath grabbed the pitcher and a glass and hurried to crouch at Nick's side. "Here you are, Nick. Drink this." He had started to fill the glass when Nick yanked the pitcher from his hand.

Lifting the pitcher to his mouth, Nick gulped down the soothing liquid, giving no mind to the trail of white froth escaping down both sides of his mouth, running in a stream down his neck, and soaking into his shirt.

"Boy howdy, Nick…" Heath patted his brother's shoulder sympathetically.

"Boy howdy, Nick?" As one fire went out, another flared.

"Now, I tried to tell you, Nick. I tried." Heath shifted and shrugged and looked downright sorry, but Nick's scowl only deepened.

"Oh, you tried to tell me. Well, now, isn't that nice." Nick snorted sarcastically, but the look on Silas's face made him reconsider. Not to mention how Heath was getting a little green around the gills. "Well… Well, maybe you did at that." Nick gave a crooked grin of apology and accepted the offered hand up. And then he turned his attention to Silas. "What in God's green earth was in that?"

"Cayenne pepper." Silas calmly delivered the news and waited.

"Cayenne pepper! Cayenne pepper! What in the world is Audra-"

"Miss Audra was thinking it was cinnamon, Mister Nick. Only, I had the cinnamon out for refillin', and-"

"And rather than hurt Audra's feelings, Silas here has been playing a shell game with plates of pie all night." Heath sputtered out the explanation, the tears returning.

Nick wavered, his lips caught between a grin and a frown, and then he surrendered to the laughter and howled. He slapped his thigh, held his ribs, and threw an arm over Heath's shoulders as his brother let go and joined in the hilarity.

Silas watched it all with a fond grin. His question of whether they'd be wantin' any more pie tonight set off a renewed round of uncontrolled cackling, and he retreated to the mansion with the cart full of pie, laughing to himself and mumbling about how peace and quiet was overrated…and that the house sure had been lonely without Mister Nick around.

Ciqala's unsettled nickering had been drowned out by the raucous play, but as they were forced to quietness by a loss of breath and energy, Nick caught the sound of the colt's cry.

"What is it, Nick? Colic, you think?"

Nick was all seriousness now. A sick horse was nothing to laugh at. "I don't think so…" He scratched his head and winced when his fingers hit the stitched wound behind his left ear. "But I'll stick around awhile to watch him, all the same. Make sure." He rubbed at his eyes and blinked them wide, turning back to the bay's stall.

"Nick, you need some rest." The grimace hadn't escaped Heath's observant eyes. Tomorrow maybe he'd ask about that. Tonight Nick needed to sleep.

"Yeah, I will." Nick waved him off, and then turned with a warning. "And you'd best get some rest yourself, if you know what's good for you! We're way behind schedule. There's a million-one things to do tomorrow! Fences to mend. Cattle to move. That well in the west field…" He trailed off, mind calculating the long list of tasks ahead.

"I know Nick, I know. I'll be ready." Heath paused, reluctant to leave. "You know, one of the hands could look in on him tonight…"

"What? Nah." Nick sniffed indignantly, and then he muttered, "Anyway, I promised Audra…"

Heath frowned but relented. The only thing he ever got from arguin' with Nick was a headache.

"We may not make it back in before dark." Nick offered a warning for the upcoming day. "…May have to sleep out under the stars."

When Heath was gone, Nick sighed and leaned heavily against the stall, fighting the weariness that called to him. Ciqala seemed to sense his mood, moving closer and snuffling at his ear. Instinctively Nick's hand reached to stroke the silken coat. "It's okay, boy. It's okay." The big colt rubbed his jaw on Nick's shoulder. Nick gave him a tired smile, and under the lantern light, he serenaded the horses and the hay.

"_When the velvet heavens shine and stars begin to roam,  
>And when your heart will sing with mine,<br>Then love has found its home."_


End file.
